Dear Adam Scott,
I have watched and enjoyed you on Parks and Rec. You are cute and witty and charming, and so I’m telling you, as a friend, that your agent fucking hates you.
You know who’s too good for John Cusack’s sloppy seconds? YOU ARE. But did your agent tell you that? No he did not. A quick glance at your IMDB profile tells me he’s been feeding you shite for years. Does your agent appear to have a rampant addiction? Do you think it’s possible you are feeding that addiction with your 10%? Because a normal agent is supposed to stand between you and sodomy. I mean, I don’t think that’s what it technically says on their business cards, but it’s definitely part of the job. Since you are paying dearly for their services, then the script that would have your testicles spurting a milky substance into Rob Corddry’s face should never reach the light of day. It should be tossed in the Pauly Shore pile, or maybe Rob Schneider’s. Possibly Danny McBride’s. But since it ended up in your hands, Adam, and you were somehow convinced to sign on, then I can only surmise that your junkie agent is also a charismatic cult leader deft at brain washing and mind control. That’s the only logical explanation for this movie, and your presence in it.
So for the love of Adam Scott, Internet, will you please band together, so we can FREE ADAM SCOTT! FREE ADAM SCOTT! FREE ADAM SCOTT!
Yours truly, with concern, compassion, and zero tolerance for unnecessary sequels,